


Sources of Stability

by Flammenkobold



Series: Critical Role Rarepair Week [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ficlet, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flammenkobold/pseuds/Flammenkobold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilmore and Sherri have a little heart to heart while he recovers.</p><p>Written for day 1 of the Critical Role Rarepair Week (Non-romantic Pairing).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sources of Stability

 

Gilmore was not one for complaining unnecessarily, but being scooped up in the small house Lady Cassandra was gracious enough to lend him, he began to see the appeal of complaining to whoever was near enough to hear him. It wasn't always the best idea when Lady Kima was involved, of course. Even less so when Sherri was fussing over him, in her own rather practical way.

Sherri had a perpetually sour look to her, that seemed more dour than usually. Not that he could fault her for that, with the way things were. Though he did miss the rare, down turned hint of a smile that she used to give him.

"At least you have something to do," he said to her tightly wound bun, as she poured tea for him on the tiny table at the other side of the room. He had always wondered how her hairstyle did not give her additional headaches, or if they were the reason for her usual uptight behavior.

"Yes," she snapped back, "entertaining the Empresses children with paltry parlor tricks and taking care of your insufferable self as best as I can." It was a sudden outburst, one that had been coming for a while, Gilmore suspected.

"Now, now," he murmured gently. Sherri drew a shuddering breath and her shoulders slumped, he watched as she set down the teapot she had been holding. It gave small rattling sound, echoing the tremors of her hand.

"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't-" her familiar crisp voice was reduced to a strangled whisper. If the whole world hadn't conspired to break his heart as of late, this would have surely done it. It just wouldn't do. Not darling, dependable Sherri who had endured him for far longer than most his employees and had kept his shop in top shape during his absences.

"My dear Sherri, come here."

She shook her head, a short, precise motion and squared her shoulders again. It only made the tremors in her hands stand out more. "It's all right." She took of her glasses briefly and briskly wiped her eyes, before pushing the glasses back into place.

"Sherri, please," he repeated softly and this time she did comply. He took her hand as she sat down on the small chair by his bedside, her back ramrod straight. "It's been some crazy weeks, hasn't it been?"

She stared at the simple pattern of his bedspread and instead of responding to his rhetoric question she started talking on her own. "They are lovely children, well behaved in times like this. I'm just not quite good with them in general." She fiddled with one of the loose threads from his blanket. "Besides, they like you far more."

"I've barely spent time with them when conscious," he said aghast. She gave him a sharp look, that was only mildly diluted by the fact that her eyes were faintly rimmed with red.

"You saved their lives and fought an ancient, red dragon."

"Ah yes, one of my finest hours." The affronted snort she gave him, told him exactly how she felt about that. He squeezed her hand. "You protected them too."

"Yes, I did so much to ensure their safety," she said sarcastically.

"You stayed. There were four ancient dragons attacking and you stayed. Which is far more than anyone could have asked of you. Far more than I could've ever asked of you."

"Well, where else would've I've gone?" And there was a bitterness to her voice that revealed an insecurity far older. One day his bleeding heart wouldn't swell up with desperate affection for bastard half elves, but that day was a long time in the future.

"We did have a transportation circle to Westruun," he reminded her, but his voice took on a far lighter tone. She rolled her eyes at him.

"So I could've been killed by an ancient black dragon, instead of an ancient red dragon, how nice." The scalding tone of her voice made him chuckle, which turned out to be a bad idea. The sudden burst of pain on his side reminded him how slowly the wound on his torso healed, despite the dutiful efforts of Pike and Lady Kima. His laughter turned into an aborted cough, that did not make the pain any more bearable at all.

"Gilmore!" Sherri's free hand found his shoulder, pressing him to the bed. The look she gave him could have positively curdled milk.

When the fit subsided, he gave a deep sigh. "You know, perhaps I could do with some tea, after all."

Sherri let go of his hand and smoothed up the wrinkles in her plain dress as she got up. "Yes, of course," she said, sounding slightly flustered as if forgetting his tea was something to be perturbed by.

Her hands were steady when she handed him his cup and sat back down again. Her back was as straight as ever and somehow he felt comforted by it. A small source of stability in a rapidly changing world.

"Thank you," he told her honestly and meant far more than the tea.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be longer, but with what little time I have I'm just glad that I wrote anything at all. I adore Sherri and I need at least 1k fics of her and Gilmore running Gilmore's Glorious Goods (III).


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